The first thing you're likely to hear about Cultus Sabbati is that the drone-noise-metal trio is mysterious; no one knows the actual names of the band members, where they are from, how they met or where they prefer to record. But the band is otherwise completely forthcoming about their occult beliefs, their ritualistic approach to recording, and the way they feel about many of their contemporaries. Indeed, in an interview with The Quietus, they blasted the evil posturing of fellow doom benders Sunn O))); below, they put both the controversial black metal band Liturgy and the detractors who can't seem to stop loving to hate them on notice. As it turns out, Cultus Sabbati have plenty to say, even if their names aren't part of the banter or backstory.

None of us this really matters, though, when listening to last year's excellent Garden of Forking Ways or the new Descent into the Maelstrom. Both LPs put Cultus Sabbati's demanding sense of dynamics and total tonal control in brilliantly grim focus and place the band squarely at the center of the recent pack of acts who have been turning several shapes of extreme music-- power electronics, doom metal, black metal, harsh noise-- into aggressive new varieties. Descent into the Maelstrom is one of the more brutal but balanced records we're bound to hear all year. We talked to Cultus Sabbati via e-mail.

Cultus Sabbati: "Mouth of the Beast"

Pitchfork: You've talked before about keeping your identities secret in order to keep the focus on the music. Do you think the music industry is too often focused on stories rather than sounds?

Cultus Sabbati: Our anonymity has more to do with trying to create a space for the music of Cultus Sabbati that is separate from our other individual musical identities. We wanted to be able to leave behind whatever baggage we might have outside of this group in order to give the music an identity of its own.

The music industry has been about stories and personalities from its beginning. A band has always been a composite of the images, words, and sounds that revolve around its name and its members. The story is the "identity" of the band. This is true in metal as much as in pop; how you live, when you die and what leads you to your grave is often more talked about than the sounds you make as an artist.

"How you live, when you die and what leads you to your grave is often more talked about than the sounds you make as an artist."

Pitchfork: You've given away a lot of music for free, especially after a limited pressing sells out. That seems like another attempt to go against a standard of industry.

CS: We have been fortunate to have people appreciate what we are doing enough to talk to us about making physical objects out of our sounds. We all love vinyl and well-done packaging. Joe at Rococo did a fantastic job with seeing our vision for what the package for Garden of Forking Ways could be. Having Steve Walters at Screwball Press in Chicago do the screen printing just made the package that much more incredible for us. Descent into the Maelstrom looks to be a pretty amazing package as well.

But once you sell a good run of these, the market isn't that big. People are going to share the music regardless; we just decided that the best thing is to be the source of the digital files being spread around online. It's our way of saying to the people who like us, "It's OK. We understand. Just listen, and share it with others. Maybe next time you will get a LP before they are gone."

Cultus Sabbati: "Corridors of Light":

Cultus Sabbati: Corridors of Light

Pitchfork: What is your preferred method for people to hear your music?

CS: We all love vinyl. But people will get to the music in whatever way is convenient for them. We all hate earbuds, but otherwise, we find ourselves listening to music on a wide range of formats and systems.

Pitchfork: You've said that the band is a trio. Were the members united by a certain belief in the occult before the band formed or after?

CS: We met touring at festivals, and over a couple of years, our repeated conversations made us realize we had a lot in common in terms of spiritual and ritual beliefs. We had an impromptu ritual and jam session at a friend's house and realized something interesting could be done. From there, it grew into what we are doing now, though the process has changed quite a bit since we began.

Pitchfork: Have the members been in previous bands and, if so, how would you describe the sonic and philosophical link or lack thereof between this band and those bands?

CS: All three of us are active outside of Cultus Sabbati in other bands. Of course, as musicians, we all bring influences into CS that come from our other projects, but we try as much as possible to keep a certain amount of distance between things.

Pitchfork: When Cultus Sabbati performs its rituals while recording, is there anything involved other than simply playing music? If yes, what?

CS: The sounds we make are only 60 percent of what is "happening" while we perform. Besides the visual aspect, there are motions occurring, interactions. The theatre of the ritual is unfolding. By the time it's an album, things have been cut and pasted and manipulated. We usually end up with about three-plus hours of recorded material and try to use as much of it as we can within the scope of the project.

Are you asking if we are performing ritual magick? If so, then yes, that is what is occurring.

Pitchfork: You've mentioned the posture of evil among metal bands, who pretend to be darker than they are. When was the first time Cultus Sabbati was let down by posturing in heavy metal?

CS: We each had a different kind of moment, but it was in our teens when we each had a realization that some band or another was just pretending, that the "evil" was just a front for the sound, that King Diamond didn't really sacrifice people.

These days, it has less to do with posturing about being "evil" and more to do with posturing about being "cult" or "true." The whole Liturgy thing is amazing-- what an incredible PR coup for Thrill Jockey. The guy [Hunter Hunt-Hendrix] just keeps pushing people's buttons, and the chorus grows louder and louder. The more people talk and argue, the more the press pays attention and the better press the band gets. The posturing on both sides is like watching a Japanese soap opera-- all emotion and no thought.

People arguing about what constitutes "black metal" are missing the point. Black metal doesn't need to be talked about; it needs to be listened to. But hey, if they are selling records, at least the label will be happy.

"For us, we make these sounds in order to create a mental and emotional place in which to transcend the mundane. It is the soundtrack to our spiritual travels."

Pitchfork: What genre or niche does Cultus Sabbati feel it is part of-- power electronics, black metal?

CS: We don't care if people use genre labels to describe what Cultus Sabbati is doing. Black metal, power electronics-- we liked John Doran's "occult dub" reference. It all works for us. Use whatever adjectives you feel are necessary. Lately, we have been joking that we are "witchnoise."

Pitchfork: What do you hope people might take away from hearing your music? What do you take away from performing it?

CS: On a personal level, the music is really the by-product of its own achievement. It's what is leftover when the ritual is done and the amps are quiet. For us, we make these sounds in order to create a mental and emotional place in which to transcend the mundane. It is the soundtrack to our spiritual travels.

As for listeners, we have taken the bits of what we have left over and pushed them into something more formal, more composed. While we know that it can never be the same experience to listen to music as it is to make music, we hope to open a window into our endeavors, a brief moment of darkness, and illumination.

Pitchfork: Are these all improvisations? How much composition or planning is involved in this band, versus editing after the fact?

CS: The rituals themselves are already structured before we begin. There are distinct "parts" that need to be performed. A ritual usually takes four hours or so, not including setup and breakdown time. Once we have everything in place and are ready to roll, we go continuously for the duration of the ritual. If the computer crashes (as has happened once), we just keep going and loose whatever material we might have documented. Between the arranged parts, there is a lot of room for improvisation and exploration. Sometimes what you are hearing is just the sound the instruments are making while being left to their own devices as we step outside of ourselves for a little while.

"We tend to find ourselves recording in people's houses or yards, so we borrow things depending on our host."

Pitchfork: What can you tell me about the equipment used for these recordings?

CS: Each album has had a pretty different makeup in terms of gear. We used Sunn and Orange amps on Descent and Ampeg B12 bass amps on Garden. We use a ton of delays and distortion pedals.

Instrument-wise, we use found pots and pans, bells and bowls (whatever we can scavenge when we get a chance to perform together) along with guitar, vocals and electronics. Azrael recently brought a tiny Casio we used on our most recent recordings. (Those are still unmixed.) We tend to find ourselves recording in people's houses or yards, so we borrow things depending on our host.

Cultus Sabbati: "Walls of the Abyss":

Cultus Sabbati: Walls of the Abyss

Pitchfork: What do you think the biggest step for the band between the previous LP and this LP was?

CS: With Garden of Forking Ways, we spent less time together during the mixing. Mostly it was passed around as files, and comments were made. With Descent into the Maelstrom, we were all present for the mixing sessions. We don't agree on which way is better, but they were very different approaches to how those records were put together.

Pitchfork: Have you ever considered touring while trying to keep your identities secret?

CS: We have considered it. We have been asked by a couple of festivals promising to keep us under wraps, but it just comes down to it being too complicated to make happen. We have even thought of making a film of one of our rituals at some point. Filming would make it much more time-consuming, and it's already difficult enough to arrange the three of us being in the same place for a night.

The fact is we get our fill of touring. Cultus Sabbati is what happens during those thankful respites from the road.

Pitchfork: What are Cultus Sabbati's plans for the future?

CS: We don't think about the future, really, just the next time we might get to perform together. We've talked about fooling around with another cover while we are set up at some point. (We did a version of "Nothing Compares 2 U" a couple of years ago.) We have even talked about doing the actual ritual and recording in a studio, but that is still a debate. We have an EP we just finished from some recordings done in the early Spring. We are hoping to get together again sometime before the winter.

Pitchfork: Your press photos run the risk of alienating people via American implications of racism, but such hoods have been part of other practices. Are these hoods just part of your rituals?

CS: Those hoods and robes are part of the traditional costume worn by Spanish Catholic penitents during the processions of Holy Week. We got them in Seville a few years back, and they are perfect for what we do. The second we saw them, we knew they were what we needed. We liked the point and how it looks like a rimless witch's hat. The cone-shaped hat is an ancient symbol of mystical attainment that predates even the Christian religion.

For the record, we are not-- nor do we in any way promote-- racist ideas, beliefs or practices.

Pitchfork: The title Garden of the Forking Ways came from Neil Gaiman. Where does the title Descent into the Maelstrom come from?

CS: It's the title of a story by Edgar Allen Poe. When we were mixing the record, the term "underwater" was used a couple of times, and it fit into what we were trying to accomplish sonically. Plus, it's a great story. All three of us are huge fans of literature. We all read voraciously, which is kind of what brought us into conversations in the first place. --Grayson Currin

Next: Tracing the intersections of music and speech with Alessandro Bosetti